


keep dreaming of her

by ivermectin



Series: ☆ there's girlfriendhood @ malory towers ☆ [2]
Category: Malory Towers - Enid Blyton
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gwen tries to cause problems on purpose w limited success, POV Belinda Morris, Pining, belinda's inner monologue gets to curse too, only mildly . but it is There, or maybe no success at all, rated T because i let irene cuss, she is allowed. i wanted this for her.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: Irene is always singing to herself.Belinda is enraptured - not just by Irene's singing, but by Irene herself.
Relationships: Irene (Malory Towers)/Belinda Morris
Series: ☆ there's girlfriendhood @ malory towers ☆ [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911421
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	keep dreaming of her

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song "dry ice" by green day  
> ("oh i love her, keep dreaming of her, will i understand if she wants to be my friend?")  
> there's a lot in that song that just Fits, ok

Irene is singing under her breath again. Soft hum, something she’s composed no doubt – a lilting, jolly thing that makes Belinda want to dance. Then again, everything about Irene makes Belinda want to dance. The urge to enfold the other girl in her arms and dance with her, to get as close as possible and then, to get even closer – these are feelings Belinda initially attributed to the fact that they were so similar in temperament.

“We’re so alike, you and me,” Irene had said wonderingly. “We could be the same person, almost.”

Now though, Belinda knows better. She’s drawn to Irene, not just because Irene _gets it_ , but because Irene is Irene.

Irene sings as she works, she does maths calculations mentally and fixes Belinda’s sums for her. She models for Belinda when Belinda asks, sitting in the sun with a stillness nobody would’ve expected from Irene as Belinda gets out her paints.

Irene laughs too loudly at people’s jokes, tells everyone what’s on her mind, forgets the timetable weekly, loses her notebooks and stationery with alarming frequency, and when Belinda looks at her she sees someone who parallels her so thoroughly it would be terrifying and scary if it weren’t so lovely instead. They’re _Irene and Belinda._

Belinda draws Irene everywhere; in her notebooks, on paper napkins, in old magazines, in the margins of newspapers, even in her textbooks. And Irene watches her, and smiles, something startlingly soft in her expression each time.

And when Belinda forgets things and Irene remembers, Irene saves her arse each time, telling her when they have homework, helping her with a last minute science project, carrying her bag between classes, whatever the situation calls for.

And Belinda’s collection of drawings and paintings of Irene grows and grows. And Irene hums and skips and laughs more than ever, and sometimes she looks at Belinda with a question in the corner of her smile.

Belinda isn’t used to feeling like this; like she’s sunbathing in a pool of love and it’s the best feeling, but the anguish of not knowing what Irene feels, not knowing if Irene would follow, not knowing how to say it.

Surprisingly, it is Gwendoline Mary Lacey who does the thing that results in Belinda’s dilemma being solved.

It is just an average Saturday, and Irene and Belinda are lying in a secluded spot full of greenery. Belinda’s head is on Irene’s lap, and one of Irene’s hands is in Belinda’s hair, playing with strands of it. Irene is talking about music theory, about the chords she changed and fixed in a sad song to make it happy, about beats and scales and other things Belinda only knows a little about, but is ready to listen if it’s Irene talking.

Gwen chances upon them, and turns up her nose, scowling. “What, are you lovers, or something?” she scoffs.

“What, are you jealous?” Belinda says, doing her best to sound cheerful, and Gwen stalks off, clearly annoyed.

“Alright there, Morris?” Irene asks her.

“Sure,” Belinda says, shifting a little, wriggling her feet, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. Not looking at Irene’s face as if afraid what she will see there.

“What Gwen said….” Irene begins.

“Doesn’t matter,” Belinda says.

“Really?” Irene asks, and there’s weight to it, so much said through what she isn’t saying.

“Well, of course it matters,” Belinda amends, getting up, brushing the grass off her tunic and realising too late (damn it to hell) that she’ll have grass stains down her back. “It matters so much.”

“Then why would you say it doesn’t?” Irene asks, quietly.

“Didn’t want to pressure you,” Belinda says, softly.

Irene gapes at her. “Belinda, your feelings aren’t an act of coercion. They’re just feelings. Feelings that are _reciprocated_ , incidentally.”

Belinda blinks. “What?”

Irene leans forward, kisses her cheek. “I wasn’t sure how you felt, whether you were even attracted to girls, or to me, you know? I would’ve said something earlier, otherwise. I’m sorry.”

“Pfft,” Belinda says, feeling lighter than air. “Don’t apologise, it’s fine. Now you know.”

“Now I know,” Irene says. “So. Do you want to prove Gwen right, for once?”

Belinda laughs, delighted.

“Don’t make this about Gwen,” she says, “but yes.”

They walk back to the towers hand in hand.

“By the way,” Irene says, suddenly bashful. “The love song I’ve been composing, it’s for you.”

Belinda feels warm at the admission. She gives her girlfriend a soft smile. “I really appreciate that, Irene, I have no words for how much this means to me, you have no idea, I – ”

She’s cut off by an exclamation from a girl she’s never seen before.

“Oy, you! Yes, you both! North Tower girls, aren’tcha? What are you doing in South Tower?”

“Fuck,” Irene says under her breath, and Belinda giggles, grabs her by the hand, and they both make a run for it, laughing together, giddy on their youth and their love and everything else that makes them who they are; everything that they are.

**Author's Note:**

> as far as irinda goes (that's what im calling this ship now!), i really hope to write more of them soon!! as far as malory towers wlw goes, there is So Much More i gotta write (alicia/betty, bill/clarissa, mary-lou/daphne, and then a ton of even rarer rare-pairs but, everything in its time.) 
> 
> i WILL write more of these 2 eventually, they're the best, HAHAH


End file.
